Honor and Glory
by darkmickyangel
Summary: Angel contemplates his new role as Paladin. Just some explorations on his character.
1. Chapter 1

The paladin's office was located in the Vatican's headquarters, fourth floor. It was composed of three rooms, a small entry, a large side room and the back main room that sported the only window, overlooking St. Peter's square. The walls were an olive green, with old Victorian style crown molding. The walls were pocketed with small dents and imprints of the past, small incidents that had accumulated over the years. They were rather large rooms owing to the status of the inhabitants, and each Paladin had been known to decorate or rearrange the room as they saw fit.

Bentley Harrington, the Paladin before Shiro Fujimoto, had filled the rooms with books upon books of scriptures and religious texts. The entire place had been almost like a library, and reflected the neat Aria's personality, with everything in its place and as tidy as it could be. Entry into the office was seen as a mark of greatness, as only the elitist of the elite were allowed to cross the threshold. The sacred were allowed in the paladin's inner sanctum. If one was chosen to be on one of the missions, you were directed by the secretary to enter the meeting room, and only the meeting room. With its long table, and map board along the wall. Bookshelves lining everything else.

Bentley demanded respect, and incompetence was not something he stood for. He was a true shining example of what a Paladin should be, with a true connection with god and a quick mind that held the exorcists together throughout the second war. He was a true Exorcist, and having his throat cut and vocal cords permanently damaged, everyone was sad to no longer having the immeasurable, holy voice guiding them on the field.

As for his replacement, there had been many candidates to choose from. The Grigori were proud that their programs had produces such fine candidates, a worthy representative from each branch of the order. But then the witch Yuri courted the Demon God, and the blue night was brought upon them. Most of the candidates were killed, more injured. Only one remained standing among the ashes.

Much to the discontent of the Vatican, Shiro Fujimoto was given the title of Paladin. The man was a well-known among the exorcists. The epitome of a cold heart; the demon's attack dog. The order fell into dark times, with so many of the old families having ended with the blue night, there was little hope for their meager numbers.

But as unconventional as he was, Shiro Fujimoto was undoubtedly the best exorcist for the job. With his first entrance exam, he had passed all meisters. In the next two years he had shown mastery of all said fields, and by the age of twenty one there was no one by far who could even compete on his level single handedly. He was a member of the church, at least. Then there was the undisputable fact that when he went out on a battle field... nothing was left standing.

Shiro came into office- and the old traditions were pulled out by the roots, in a 'reform that was necessary for the Order to continue.'

Half-demons; once exorcised were now allowed to join the order. Demonic summoning for fighting, which were once closely guarded arts within families, became public education and casually weaponized. Demon weapons were collected by the man himself, then used to re-arm the Order with demonic weapons to fight demons. Other, unholier religions and practices were forced to be recognized by the Order under his command. Islam, Hindi, Buddhism were given more power and allowed to act freely; a sickening mixture of exorcism beliefs was taught instead of the single, Roman one.

It was disgraceful, defiling. As if the Roman Church needed help from such sinful sources. People said that by lessening the Order's restrictions Shiro Fujimoto kept the Order from being overrun after the Blue Night. In reality he had just drug its reputation through the mud. Lowered it to _their_ level.

The man himself was a coward, bowing to the beliefs of the Asian ways, accepting demons somewhat as a part of this world. Avoiding fights- ordering demons to be relocated rather than exercised, just letting some places fall to the demon's control and making demon 'quarantines' like they were animal reservations. It was a disgrace to the exorcist title- acting as if they could be reasoned with or if they had feelings.

Thus Shiro Fujimoto, the worst Paladin in history, took too office.

Just like Bentley, the office somehow reflected Shiro himself; cluttered and chaotic- in a way that showed how vile the man was himself. Weapons upon weapons decorated the walls, a small part of the collection he would build up over his lifetime as he gathered them from the corners of the world and then delt out to those he favored. Drying tobacco leaves, hung from the ceiling, and several plants scattered about the room. He converted the smaller front room of the office into the meeting room- shoving two mix matching desks together in the middle of the room, while odd chairs and lounges sere shoved up against the wall. Papers and study materials stored underneath them in custom drawers, or in the shelves in the side room. The previous side meeting room became known as the 'crash' room. Several sofas were placed in it, as well as a wardrobe and a small basin. The room was for any exorcist working long hours, or simply exhausted to just crash in like it was some kind of communal space. Spare uniforms of all sizes were kept in the wardrobe, as well as some extra undershirts. The rooms, unlike with Bentley, were completely open for use and people were walking in and out of the office at all times of the day. It was rare to find it empty, with always some half-demon or blasphemer about.

However soon, too Shiro passed on, and the once busy rooms were cleaned out. The weapons stored away into some vault, the furniture hauled out. All that remained was the old, oak desk and office chair the man had procured for himself.

The room waited, as if in a stasis, for its next occupant to come in and shape it again. Someone to come in and reclaim the glory of the Paladin Title, to wash it of the shame Shiro Fujimoto had brought upon its name.

 _Someone like me,_ Arthur Aguste Angel contemplated as he stood in the middle of his new office, rivaling in his new position.

The announcement had been made earlier that day, and after a long briefing of the rules and obligations of his new title. Angel found himself alone in his office for the first time. He ran his gloved hand along the desk and looked around the empty room, finding it a little strange to see it so empty.

Angel hadn't been any stranger to Shiro's office- after all he was a top knight within the order. He could almost still see the familiar room if he blinked, finding the white haired disgrace going through papers, the familiar wide range of weapons, ammunition, texts, maps, drying plants, hanging around the room. The familiar 'shush' sign if someone was sleeping on the sofa in the next room as he entered, then the signal to come closer. The arguing of plans during a meeting, everyone huddled over the large oak desk, the barking laughter when Shiro laughed, having to shift so the older man could pull files out from underneath tables. It had all been so cluttered and unprofessional.

Angel took a deep breath, smelling the cleaning products they had used to clean the old man's cigarette smoke off the walls.

A fresh start.

I was time to bring the Order back to its true glory.

 **A/N: I don't own any of the Blue Exorcist characters, nor the franchise.**

 **Just like the summary says, just me working on some character mindsets, namely comparing Angel and Shiro.**

 **Reviews welcome.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Blue Exorcist and its characters belong to the amazing Kazue Kato.**

 **Just and update for this story, since I actually wrote this out and it's understandable. Little sad in the ending, but note that the kids are well into their early 30s at this point. Not under drinking age ;)**

"Is that the last box?" Rin asked Konekomaru as he walked by. The short boy hadn't gotten much taller even after all these years- but what he lacked in height he made up for in mind and soul, everyone knew that.

"yup. Only well… you know," The man said awkwardly, then continued walking down the hallway, to bring the stuff to the van waiting outside. Rin walked in to the office and looked around. The room felt empty, in a very sad sort of way.

He had heard vague stories about what the room had looked like under his father's tenure, but never seen any pictures. He was, however, very familiar with Angel's office.

The stiff furniture and shelves, all very modern looking and… stiff. It had been intimidating the first few time Rin had stepped foot in the office. The leather furniture and that clock that ticked way to loudly for anyone's comfort. But as he slowly came and left on missions, becoming a member of the order and not a threat in Angel's eyes. He saw that while it look strict, the place was habitual and had splashes of more life as the years went by. The paperweight Shura gave the man as a joke one Christmas- a gaudy glass angel tucked away on the shelf. The pictures of Angel's sister and her children that rested on the upper shelf above the guest chairs, only visible from behind the desk unless you craned your head awkwardly to see it. The fact that the clock wasn't just one clock, but several different ones over the years. The man would sometime break it in frustration, and Mephisto would always give him a new one that was just as loud, but Angel didn't refuse because it just looked like the old one; the model was no longer made and he was too ashamed to let people think that he had a temper. It had a number written on the back in sharpie, counting how many he had broken. (Rin had found out that little secret out when he and Angel went out to drink one night after a particularly grueling mission together.) The scotch the English man kept in the lowest drawer of his desk.

In the meeting room there were less things to be seen as it was just a glass table with a projector and a screen with some chairs. But the projector screen still had that small dot in it, where a marker had scared it on accident. Bon had practically flipped the table trying to get to one of the shitty officials that day- Rin hadn't been there sadly. It also had a slightly lighter patch on the wall where Angel had smashed him into the wall that one time- he'd nearly died that day if it weren't for Shima. Ah memories. The front room sofa's, as they moved them out seemed less new and more worn than they remembered, and the secretary's desk didn't look so imposing.

The room was being repainted tomorrow, what color it would be, Rin didn't know. Angel and he hadn't started off on the best of terms, Rin thought, standing in the empty reception room. But he, Lightning, Shura, Rin, Yukio, Bon- everyone. They had all fought the fight over the years. They were the powerhouses of the Vatican, they knew this. They worked together to keep the others safe. Sometimes Angel wasn't a good leader because of his stubborn beliefs, and sometimes he was an outstanding one.

Arthur Augustus Angel had just been doing what was best he could do, and no one could argue that fact.

 _And now he's dead,_ Rin thought sadly, _taken down in battle. We told him not to come- he wasn't feeling well. Should have left Shura to look after him. God but none of us would have made it out if not for him._

Rin fought bit his lip and made his way into the inner office. Empty save for the giant oak desk that had seen more paladins than Rin had. And Caliburn. Angel hadn't used the sword in a few years- after his Lightning's death. He didn't think that he could handle the demon inside of it, with that kind of weight in his mind. The sword hadn't moved for two years- seeing as no one but Angel could master the beast inside. Besides Rin and Yukio of course. They were already half-demon. As demon kings they couldn't be possessed by something as simple as a demonic blade, the demon would either submit to them or the blade would try and find itself burned out of existence by their latent powers.

Rin stared down at the blade, and wondered if it knew. Knew that Angel had died, passed on from this world. If it felt remorse that it maybe could have saved him. If Angel had hesitate on his way out of the office, as if deciding to take the blade into battle one last time. Or maybe because no one had picked it up, even touched it in so long it didn't know. Was trapped inside itself.

Rin took a step back and looked around the room, feeling unreasonable anger at the whole situation. They hadn't even put Angel in the ground yet, and the Vatican was already choosing the next paladin. Ordering them to clear out the office. The funeral was tomorrow morning in the man's home town but- god damn couldn't they even get this single day to grieve?

"Is it always like this?" Rin asked the room, his voice thick, "as soon as one leaves, you just clear out as if someone has stepped away from a mirror. What are you going to look like for the next paladin? I could be me, or Bon, Yukio's gonna turn down the offer- he's got kids he has to raise. Shiemi maybe. You'd just fill up with plants and not even recognize that someone's left. That everything's _changed_."

Rin placed a hand over his eyes and let a sob come out from his throat, "I always wanted to be a paladin but- I didn't- I didn't want someone to die." Rin said meekly. He walked around the side of the desk and opened up one of the lower drawers- looks like they had forgotten to clear out the desk. He pulled the bottle of amber colored liquid up out of the drawer and sat down on the carpet, back against the wood.

"It ain't right," Rin mumbled, pouring himself a glass. He stared at the liquid, and raised it up to the roof, "you were an asshole Angel. And despite how many times I've said otherwise, I hope you're in heaven. Not some shit hole hell." Rin said, and knocked back the glass. He grimaced at the burn slumped down.

"Very poetic of you," Shima said quietly, Rin looked up and raised his eye at the pink-haired man. He'd never grown out of that 'phase' as he called it. Neither had Bon, the two pissed officials off every shindig they went to. Sometime Angel would send them as reps on purpose, when the higher-ups were annoying him. Though he'd never admit it. He'd send Yukio or Konekomaru when he wanted to make a good impression. Rin and Shura never got to go because they weren't 'civilized enough.' He sent them out to the battle field to wreck shit. Claimed that was all they were good for.

Rin pored Shima a glass, as the spy joined him. They sat quietly, starring at the sword, and sipping on the fine ale. Both wondering what the future would hold, entail.

"So what are you going to do with it?" Shima finally asked.

"Apparently my dad has a vault full of them," Rin sighed, "If anyone in the family wants to claim it, I can't say no. but until then I'm keeping it where it can't accidently possess someone."

"You going to the announcement tomorrow evening?" Shima asked, quietly.

"No, I'm going to the wake. I don't care if they fucking call my name or not, some things are more important." Rin grumbled, and sighed, looking up at the roof, "is this how it's going to be for all of us? Were just going to disappear one after the other, till there's only one of us left, and we're to fucking old to remember everyone who's left us?"

Shima looked down at his glass, and didn't answer. After ten or so minutes, Rin finished his drink and stood up. He picked up Caliburn, and as he said, was going to haul it off to the vault. Only the blade had asked meekly for one request before doing so, apparently very aware that its owner had passed on.

Rin stood the next morning in the old English town, the other elite soldiers Arthur had worked with personally around him. On his back, was the demon blade Angel himself had carried around for so many years, present in mutual grief of his own.

The wake afterwards was loud and boisterous but reserved- the kind of party Angel would have frowned on but secretly enjoyed. Rin didn't even hear the announcement of the new paladin until two days later, having avoided the office with everyone else.

It was Daniel Churchill from the European branch, second best coordination and communications expert they had besides Konekomaru himself.

No one liked the assignment. The man was a shitty leader, clearly just a political favorite. Lots of people wanted someone else to step up and challenge him. Someone like Shura, or Rin himself. Someone strong. But neither of them ever did. Rin didn't know about Shura, and wouldn't admit anything willingly- but it felt like he had dogged the biggest bullet of his life.


End file.
